


i'm semi-automatic

by Mongo00



Series: holding on (to life) [19]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Gen, Medication, Numbness, POV First Person, POV Josh Dun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 00:03:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13962969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mongo00/pseuds/Mongo00
Summary: I don’t remember how it feels to live; it’s been too long. It’s been too long since I became this medicated zombie.I don’t remember how raw feelings feel.





	i'm semi-automatic

I don’t know; I really just don’t know anymore.

I go through my days with motions, but I don’t engage in any of it. Prefering to be unconscious, I take way too many naps during the day (at school and home). 

I stare at the world instead of living in it. 

I don’t remember how it feels to live; it’s been too long. It’s been too long since I became this medicated zombie.

I don’t remember how raw feelings feel. 

I don’t feel true sadness or joy; I don’t feel anything.

It’s almost as if there’s a wall over my anxiety and depression. 

The thoughts are still there, but I can’t feel them; I think them, but I can’t /feel/ them.

It’s almost like I know I’m supposed to be happy, but I feel nothing. 

All the smiles and laughs are automatic responses that are now programed into my body. 

I don’t feel joy when I laugh anymore; I feel nothing. 

All my reactions and responses are out of reflex. 

I don’t know what I’m laughing or crying at. 

I’m not sure why I’m reacting a certain way, but I stay with it because it’s the expected reaction.

I don’t remember how true emotion feels, thanks to the drugs. 

I guess it’s a good thing since I don’t go around wanting to kill myself every chance I get, but is it really? Is it really a good thing if I can’t feel genuine joy or happiness? 

I’m not sure if I even have emotions anymore; I can’t feel anything and I can’t fix it. 

Is this really a better way of living?

I’d rather be dead than not being able to feel anything, but I can’t say that; I can’t say that because they’ll give me more drugs to stop ‘thinking like that.’ 

I’ll become fully-automatic instead of being just semi-automatic. 

The drugs don’t fix the problem, they just hide them. 

The problems still speak and scream at me, but I can’t listen or feel them; I hear them, but I can’t listen to them. 

The drugs make it so that I can’t listen to the bad voices, but it also makes me not able to listen to the good ones. 

This isn’t the way to live life, but I don’t know what is.

I don’t know; I really just don’t know anymore.


End file.
